Three Thousand Years
by Kobell
Summary: What would happen if you were immortal? One-Shot of the thoughts of a Tsaesci, and what he thinks of his eternal life.


**THREE THOUSAND YEARS**

* * *

Three thousand years. That is how much I have lived. I ask myself, have I had enough of it?

Three thousand years. Thousand. And how much have I got left? Probably another million. It is not fair; some people look their entire life for a way to live forever. In the other hand, I find myself looking for a way to end it. Stupid creatures, thinking that living forever is fun. It's pathetic; if they only knew how wrong they are.

Was I lucky to be Tsaescii? Was I fortunate to be born with a golden, eternal heart that makes my life indestructible? Was I somehow blessed by our gods, or was it a punishment? These are few of the questions I ask myself every day, but never manage to find the answer.

Is my life worth living? Having this much time, shouldn't I be doing something more important, like, for example, changing the world?

I was in two of the three wars there had been against Tamriel. I have experienced deadly battles, and I have survived them all. "Lucky you", some might think. I wouldn't say the same. In fact, I was very unlucky for not having died in the wars. We lost one of them; the time where they protected themselves behind city walls, that time where they managed to counter us and turn our fleets upside down against ourselves. We won the other one; the one where they attacked us, the one where they tried to invade. We did what we could. They fled, like birds, realizing they had done a terrible mistake. Naturally, our tongues have been saying for centuries the awaited attack we have yet to win, the possession of the continent that 'belongs to us', but do we really believe that? Do we really think we can outsmart the most powerful races and take hold of a whole empire just with our bare hands? In my opinion, we cannot. We are immortal, right, but we are not able to multiply as fast as they can. Man, they do in one year what we cannot do in one century. Besides, even though no one wants to accept it; we are technologically outdated. Their weapons have become much more powerful now; our stupid wooden beams do not even come close to being as strong as one of their crossbows. They would obliterate us completely.

Three thousand years. Is there any point on counting it? Why would I do it, if everyday is the same, and every century as well? Why would I waste my time counting…? He, he. _Waste time. _Seems totally stupid if I say it. Everything we do in our lives is a _waste of time_, to be honest. Either you are productive in our society, or even if you don't do anything at all, you are just one on a million others. Your life is, sadly but true, useless.

So, I come back to the same point I was in before. Why should I live if, after all, my life won't make any difference? Why should I keep living this eternal, infinite and tedious life? I am young. People would laugh at me for having this kind of thoughts at my age. Gods, my great grandfather has been living in the same old cabin for ten thousand years, and, according to my dad, he will still be doing it for the rest of his life.

Oh, life. I wish there was some kind of memory loss once you reached a certain age. Not that I remember what I was doing this exact day a century ago, but I still remember a ton of things. Some say the more you live, the more you learn, but I have seen people twice as older as me and twice as stupid. Plus, remembering doesn't really serve you any purpose, does it?

Some nords have said that if you lived a million years you would be as wise as a god. Not true. You will always have the same amount of memories; it's just that the most important ones keep replacing the less important ones, and so on. We might end up learning things that we will later relearn, so what is the point?

I am anxious. Maybe it's because there is a war approaching, maybe because I might die, and I am excited. What will happen afterwards? In fact, will I ever know? My grandmother died. She was seven thousand years old, although she always managed to maintain a smile on her face. Where did she go? Where is her mind? Did it just vanish?

I have no clue. Anyways, it all comes to this: Three thousand years more than enough time and at the same time is too little. How much more will I live? Will it always be tedious like right now, or will it get better in time? Maybe at the end, I will like living forever. Then I will be scared of death, right? I don't know. All I know is that if I ever find an answer, I will tell you later, probably in another three thousand years.


End file.
